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by Thaum



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, I Will Go Down With This Ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 17:01:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13462602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thaum/pseuds/Thaum
Summary: Petyr refuses to leave Winterfell.





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**Author's Note:**

> Second one. Yeah, I am obsessed with these two. English isn't my first language. I have still trouble with times. Be nice.

She didn't understand. She had done everything but shoving him out the gate and telling him straight to his face to leave. How could he not understand? She'd been as cold as ice. She'd been mean. She elaborated about everybody distrusting him. About Jon hating him. About Arya.. well, that girl didn't need a reason to kill anymore. And she knew, that he knew, that Bran was a threat to him. Why was he still here? Time was running out. His time. She watched him silently as he stood perfectly still, leant at the heart tree where she had left him. Where she denied him. Where she pushed him away as he'd tried to kiss her, gently but determined. Giving him another reason to go. It had been hours ago. He was still there. Snowflakes were falling onto his head, his cloak, at his nose. He must have been halfway frozen by now. "Why do you not run?" She whispered. "You stupid man. Run." Slowly she walked back into the clearing where he could see her. "You will catch you death if you stay here any longer," she told him. He turned his gaze at her and there was no question, that he understood perfectly. He tilted his head and smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "It doesn't matter." The cold did nothing to her, but the tone of his voice made her shiver, crept along her spine and turned into ice in her chest. And it hurt. She stepped in front of him. "You don't care?" The silence stretched between them. The snow had become too heavy, every sound seemed muffled and unreal. She raised her hand and brushed some flakes off his shoulder. "Do I have to beg?" For anybody else it might have seem as if he pondered her question, but she knew, he was lost for words. Maybe even just lost. She sighed and took his hand. It was freezing. "Maybe you don't care. But I do. I may not feel the way you want me to. And I swear there were times I wanted to strangle you with my own hands. But the Gods know why, somehow I still care. I am a lot more afraid of losing you than I am afraid of the horrible things you might do." She closed the space between them and looked straight into his eyes, his face just inches apart from her own. She knew every line in it. The good and the bad. The things he did. To her, to those she loved. Against her. For her. Every virtue. Every flaw. Him. How she hated it to know him so well. How she needed it. "Don't tell me, that doesn't matter to you." She almost choked at her words and felt tears in her eyes she wouldn't cry. Not in front of him. Not in front of anyone. Ever. "You told me, you would do anything I asked you to do. Petyr, please. Go home." He took a step back and withdrew his hand while he studied her. "Home?" He smiled again and this time it was the most genuine sad thing she'd ever seen on his face. But he shook his head. "You've become home. I won't run from you. Not anymore." With this he bowed, turned around and started to walk back to the castle. They both knew, what was to come. 

Whenever she came back to the heart tree in following years, she came always back to him. To his place. Where he stood inmidst the snow. Where he shattered the board of the game and threw the pieces at her feet. Alongside with all what was left of his heart. And she silently cried the tears no one would see. Ever.


End file.
